


The Drug

by glamSKANKK



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-28
Updated: 2012-09-28
Packaged: 2017-11-15 04:45:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glamSKANKK/pseuds/glamSKANKK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Here's a drabble that I thought up in the car earlier today. I haven't published anything at all in a while, so please enjoy!</p>
<p>Tommy finally gives up- living life like this is anything but worth it.</p>
<p>*It's pretty dark</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Drug

Tommy stormed down the stairs into the kitchen, leaving Adam sitting in the middle of their bedroom floor with that sickening blank stare on his face. Tommy’s arms overflowed with clothes and an assortment of random belongings. His cheeks felt hot and sticky with tears. He itched all the way down to his neck from his damp hair sticking to him. His lungs were heavy, making it hard to breathe between the sobs. 

“Fucking no, Adam! I can’t do this shit anymore! I’m don’t playing that game- the one where I have to guess which one of you I’m gonna live with that day. The pot was fine, the molly was fine, but then the drinking started…” His mind went back to the drinking, the cocaine. He and Adam fell apart. Never knowing which Adam lived with him shredded at Tommy. “And now I don’t ever know which one of you I have to deal with that day! I don’t want to live with a drug. I don’t want to fuck a drug! But more than anything, I certainly can’t love a goddamned drug. Never in my entire life with you have I ever thought you’d think this kind of shit is perfectly fine. Are you a fucking idiot? Do you even have any fucking clue what I’m saying? No. You probably fucking don’t because you’re fucked out of your mind once a-fucking-gain. You know what you need? You need to get your fucking act together. You need to figure out what’s more important to you; your fucking drugs, or your future- with or without me. I know you used to be smart, and I really fucking hope you remember how to use your fried-ass brain to make the right decision. When you figure it out, you can come and find me. If you give a shit.”

With that, Tommy slammed the door to the garage behind him and sank to the floor. The worn paint scraped against his back through his t-shirt. The sobs hit him hard once again. His throat tightened, burned. His head pounded from the pressure of a stuffed nose. He wiped his face with a handful of his shirt and quickly situated his car keys.

In just a few long strides, Tommy opened the driver-side door and half threw himself into his car. Giving his key a turn in the ignition, the car’s engine came alive. Without one look back, he drove.


End file.
